


Too Slow

by charlesworthy



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Drabble, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 17:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2437712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlesworthy/pseuds/charlesworthy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>War is taxing on every one.  Well, on normal people it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Slow

**Author's Note:**

> A/N; originally posted on my rp blog. this is just a tiny drabble based on how trying a war would actually be... except for henry

The scene before them was absolutely dreadful. Corpses were strewn about like discarded clothes, either ripped to shreds or with other obvious wounds. There was hardly a spot of ground not steeped in the villager's blood, and if that weren't bad enough, the buildings were razed and suffered enough damage to make it seem years had passed since they were used.  
Yet... This was war. This was the destruction of the Risen. Every one's mind seemed to linger on the same thought:

“We were too slow.”

These were Ylisseans. The people the Shepherds were meant to protect were now creating a carpet of corpses on the ground.

Understandably, morale sank dramatically upon arrival at the village. They had cleared the risen earlier, thinking that because they were so far from the village, it meant they hadn’t reached it yet. They hadn’t thought--they wouldn’t dare think--that the risen had already left the place in shambles.

From his left, Chrom could hear the sound of retching. The scene proved too much for at least one of his, and honestly, the Lord could hardly blame them.

He took a cautious step forward and knelt. They needed respect. They needed a moment of silence. They needed a proper burial. Chrom was almost furious that those things were all he could offer to them now. He was supposed to protect them. The Shepherds were named thusly for a reason. What were they if they couldn’t live up to it?

‘Failures’ crossed Chrom’s mind for half a second, before he was jolted out of his brooding by an all-too-familiar laugh.

“Ahahahahaha! Look at all this blood!”

The enthusiastic hexer appeared from Chrom’s right, practically skipping into the field of destruction before them all. His laughter, while usually only obnoxious, was now insulting.

“Look at this guy! It’s like they tried to feed him his own arm! Ahahaha! Ooh! And this one! Ewww, I can see all his food! Nyahahaha!”

“Henry!” Chrom barked. He was exasperated, tired. The broken village made him want to cry, but he had already cried too many times before over the same thing.

Henry giggled. He already knew what Chrom was going to say, but this was too much fun! All this gore, these guts, this carnage. It was beautiful. He grabbed a nearby corpse--a woman who had the top of her head ripped clean off. What was left of her brain flopped about in the lower half of her skull, barely holding on by a thread. Henry picked her up and held her like a dancer, one hand on her hip and one around her shoulders.

He danced, laughing, and Chrom felt like he too was about to throw up.

“Henry!” this was Frederick’s voice. Thank gods one of them could think clearly with such a sight before them. “Drop that at once, or you’ll not see another battle for a month!”

“Awww, Frederick, you’re such a pain!” Henry argued, but did as he was told. The corpse fell to the ground and Henry just stared, watching as a few flies settled in the woman’s skull.

Maggots would come soon. Henry wanted to see that.


End file.
